The Pork Who Killed the Mockingbird
by Topaz Fox
Summary: This is the story of Scout, a misunderstood little Southern girl, and her exciting, symbolism filled day in her weird little hick town.


(Hey there, everyone! Topaz here. I'm breaking my code of video-game-only fics by writing this, my first-ever book fanfiction! This was written to explain why a book of such hideousity as To Kill a Mockingbird was ever published. It is dedicated to all of my friends who hate this book as much as I do. You know who you are, people! --Topaz Fox)

(Disclaimer/Note: Some may find this content offensive to the book and/or its characters. This material is only my opinion. Feel free to flame, though. And also, I don't own anything that has to do with TKaM.)

Once upon a time, in a sunny little hick town known as Mayfield where everyone spoke with a thick Southern accent, there was an extremely disturbed little girl named Scout. Her real name was girlier, but she hated it because she wanted to become a man. She was angry at the world because her brother was a moody teenager and her father just generally sucked.

To take out her anger on the world, Scout often dressed up as a pork and walked around swearing at people. That is how she got the name "swearing pork". She became the laughingstock of the entire town.

One day, Scout was walking down the road. There was this weird little kid who nobody really cared about. He said, "Hi, Scout," because he was annoying. Scout said some things that really shouldn't be printed here.

The random little kid glared at her and said, "Sucks to your ass-mar." "Wrong book, man-bitch," Scout growled, and kicked him. The little boy writhed in pain before running away, complaining that he'd never seen three quarters together in his life. The scent of fried chicken wafted through the air, because this was a S_outhern _town, after all, so there _had _to be fried chicken.

All of the sudden, a strange man came out of an ugly tin house. He was carrying a knife. Scout thought about calling her father, before remembering that he sucked. Then she thought about taking off her pork costume, but she remembered that she had nothing but her brother's mysteriously sewn-up pants on underneath.

The man with the knife dissapeared. Scout stared for a moment before mumbling, "Goddamn symbolic foreshadowing," and continued on her walk.

She came to a tree. The tree had a big hole in it, and the hole was full of magical things that all little Southern children loved, like cheap bubblegum, creepy soap dolls, broken watches and random balls of yarn. Scout got mad and punched the crap out of the tree, breaking all of the useless symbolism that was hidden inside of it.

"Hey," the tree moaned, "you're ruining the story!"

"No I'm not," Scout said. "You're still gonna fill up with cement." Only she said _cement _like _see-mehnt_, because of her unrealistically tacky accent.

When she started walking again, sure enough, the hole in the tree filled up with _see-mehnt_, bringing with it more hidden meanings and secret messages and blah blah blah.

Then Scout came to the same man with the knife as before. He was running toward her now and shouting things about raping his useless daughter, who ran off with black men. Scout thought that the man with the knife was terribly racist and scary, so she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Miraculously, a flock of mockingbirds flew down from the sky. There were so many that they blotted out the happy Southern sun and turned the sky black like doom. There were some blue jays in the flock, but the mockingbirds shot them with air rifles. They came down on the scary knife-man and stabbed him with his own weapon. He died instantly.

A huge mockingbird then came down from all the other mockingbirds, screeching, "MY NAME IS BOO RADLEY! LOVE AND ACCEPT ME, SCOUT, YOU SWEARING PORK!"

All of Scout's wildest fantasies were coming true. She was so happy she cried like a stupid little girl, which she was. "Hey, Boo," she said in a casual voice choked with theatrical sobs. Then, to symbolize her entrance into adulthood, she shot down the huge mockingbird with an air rifle, which was really hard to do considering the pork costume had no armholes.

The massive mockingbird fell to the ground and melted away, turning into a small paperback book. Scout picked up the book and read a few pages, only to see that it was the worst book she had read in her entire life. Still, she looked at it and said to herself, "Maybe I can make a couple bucks off this if I market it to major bookstores as an American classic!"

Scout's plan worked. The book, titled To Kill a Mockingbird, sold a hundred bajillion copies and found a place in every stupid American's heart. Scout became rich and bought a suit made of real pork, along with a whole flock of mockingbirds which she shot and ate. Everyone was happy because of the book, even the Europeans, who thought that American literature was so dumb it came across as extremely funny.

-Fin-


End file.
